


falling for him was like falling from grace

by nsvermore



Category: Wanna One (Band)
Genre: A church, Homophobia, M/M, a lot of religious metaphors, but like a little bit and it's not explicit, choir boy au, idk man i am new
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-09
Updated: 2018-10-09
Packaged: 2019-07-28 16:48:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16245788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nsvermore/pseuds/nsvermore
Summary: choir boy, show me how you sing.





	falling for him was like falling from grace

**Author's Note:**

> title from julia michaels' heaven (ps:. i am new and dumb i am sorry)

seongwu remembers his first communion quite well: lighting the candles, the vows and so many cake after that half of the kids got stomach ache. but most of all he remembers kneeling in front of the priest for the first time and being disappointed. that was supposed to be his big revelation, this big bridge connecting him to god. it was supposed to fill him with love and hope and light - but it only tasted like stale bread, sticky in the roof of his mouth. now he truly believed that the answers to all of his problems could be found on that little round circle, a simple succession of shapes, much simpler than religion: the square of daniel’s shoulders among the queue, the pretty line of his knees bending at the priest’s feet, the small pale circle against his pink tongue and the glisten in his eyes while he swallowed it dry. his eyes never leaving seongwu's from the distance, but seongwu was focused on other things.

did daniel also had a first communion? how did he look all dressed in white? did he knee shook like his? did his lips tremble? did he feel it? the light, love and hope entering him for the first time. right now, watching his pretty adam’s apple bob around the holy spirit, seongwu felt several things entering his soul. none of them pure, all of them forbidden.

***

after that his eyes followed daniel everywhere: at the town market where he tore a bag and dropped half a pound of apples on the floor, on the park where he hid behind a bush to see him pass and got stung by an ant, and even from his own bedroom window to see him cross the street.

but most importantly, at church. every sunday. like clockwork. their eyes always on each other and the same routine: kneel, receive and then swallow. it left his palms sweaty for the rest of the mass and his voice was always off after that, a knot on the bottom of his throat, tied twice.

why was he there, why was he torturing him that way. was it funny? to watch him sweat and squirm under his gaze miles away? perhaps he had a good laugh out of it. torture the choir kid, make him desperate every mass, make his skin crawl, his mind wander and his hands shake, play him like a fucking flute. get under his skin. and everywhere else. seongwu was playing a game without knowing the rules, in which the final price was his head.

and at the end of the service when he left the choir seats and saw a hand extended in his direction. his hand. long and with a tiny silver band shimmering.  
“peace of christ?” he sounded unsure.  
“peace of christ.”  
as they shook hands all seongwu could think was off with the head.

***

he was the last one to leave the church after choir practice. the old ladies go to bed early and he can’t sleep most nights, it’s only fair.

the feeble candlelight alongside the coolness of the night air made him anxious. is it normal to feel foreigner and unwelcome in the place that was meant to feel like home? they say in church you must find family and forgiveness. until now it was only penitence, forever on his knees praying, always purgatory - never heaven.

he felt mocked even by the stone statues, pitied by crucified jesus looking at him from above the altar. a fraud. and late at night it was worse, his throat raw of singing words he has trouble believing and chest heavy with the overbearing weight of the part he was playing. this seongwu who was kind and truthful did not really, the real seongwu lied and cheated, lived off of playing pretend and probably would die off of it too.

every step he took away from the altar increased the sensation of having eyes on his back, burning through his shirt, marking him, making his own skin a prision. set me free. he begs and pleads. ease whatever this is inside of me. he doesn’t expect an answer, but gets one anyway. he is skating across the street, shirt blown away from the wind and obnoxious laugh leaving his lips as he slides away. he looks free and for that seongwu looks at him until he is a little bit free himself. when he is about to disappear from sight daniel looks at him too and suddenly the tiny piece of freedom crumbles away from his fingers. trapped again, but in a different cage.

***

he still watches him, but doesn’t hide anymore. the stares are obvious, long and sometimes painful. he’s the boy people from towns like this talk about - single mom, stays out until late, goes where he isn’t supposed to, talk with people he shouldn’t and makes poor choir boys lose sleep over a handshake in church. they think seongwu is a good one - community college to take care of his parents money, always in church, goes to the right places and talks to the right people. but seongwu hides; he is the one who watches corners even when he is alone and lives in constant fear. good people aren’t supposed to be that scared.

daniel is never scared, always free, like a breeze he just seems to flow around everywhere, from bad place to bad place; after daniel they aren’t that bad anymore. and he wonders, how would anyone ever think someone like that is bad? is not like us? is not worthy? sunday comes around, mass comes around, the same little routine during communion makes it clear that daniel isn’t just bad like people say. there’s absolutely no room for good inside the daniel who pushes every single one of seongwu's buttons while holding the holy spirit between his lips - he’s utterly evil with no room for arguments. for the first time, instead of panicking under daniel’s stare seongwu holds his ground and smiles. show me how bad you are and how worse you can get.

***

it’s late, choir practice was long again, because seongwu insisted to rehearse more songs than usual, said he missed singing old ones. the old ladies ate it up, they always do with him; pretty boy, good boy. they know nothing. he wants to see daniel skating and laughing under the moonlight again, the most religious experience he ever on this ground was staring at him while he disappeared on the street. that night there was a switch inside his chest. tonight he wanted to light it up again. if he was any lucky it would burn him.

they all left. air still filled with meaningless praise for things he couldn’t control, pretty face, pretty voice, nice family. all things he was born with, nothing he made for himself. what is it with these people and praise? the constant need to prove that you were better than other people? that your kind was superior by default?

the moon was full today, tinting the grass a pale blue, drops of the earlier rain shone on the blades. an ant was engulfed in a water drop, seongwu chuckled.

“what are you laughing at?”

where did he come from? why was he here? what was he doing?

“what are you doing here?”

seeing his eyes wide with surprise daniel chuckled.

“looking for you”

his face was hot. his hands shivered from the cold. how could this be?

“and why are you doing that”

“last week you were looking for me, time to return the favor”

“i look for you most of the time it doesn’t mean-”

he cut the sentence short. what was he even saying? and right in the church yard? where people could see him? can’t he control himself? (he knows the answer to that, no, not when daniel is around he can’t)

“it’s my turn to ask now” he was laughing! how could he? “why are you looking for me, not just last week but most of the time?”

“why do you look like me every time you take communion?”

“asked first”

“how old are you? twelve?”

“no, but i sometimes act like it” he licks his lips. and it feels like a test. so many questions on that simple gesture. how do his lips taste? is it sweet like he thinks? bitter like he deserves? how would it feel like again his skin? would it bruise? would it heal?

“so tell me choir boy, why were you looking for me?”

“cause i wanted to see you”

“i thought your lot only had eyes for statues and wooden crosses”

“no, i like staring at pretty boys too”

“who are you and what you did to nice choir boy?” he sounds startled and confused, pink tinting his cheeks, smile quivering on his lips.

“locked him inside the church, he sleeping with jesus tonight” it feels like daniel set his tongue loose. also his mind, self preservation and perhaps sense of self.

“let him go. i quite like choir boy”

“why? because of his appreciation for wooden crosses?”

“because if he were here i wouldn’t be this scared”

“why are you scared?”

“you said i’m pretty, choir boy would never do that.”

“choir boy isn’t blind” his laugh again, then their laugh. it feels like a borrowed moment from someone else’s life, too good to belong to him.

“well tell choir boy thanks for the compliment and-” he goes near his face, painfully slow and awfully quick, cold breath right above his ear and talks. “tell him i think he is pretty too, would you?” he touches his earlobe softy, drawing its’ shape with the tip of his finger. the air around both of them is stiff.

fazed, he nods as daniel pulls away and winks at him when sees the blush filling seongwu's cheek.

“and tell him to take care on the way home, it’s late”

he skates away but the essence of his breath still hovers on seongwu's ear, like the last breath of a dead man.

***

“son, is it true that you were talking with that daniel boy last night?”

swallow. lie.

“no mother, why would you think that? i know better!”

relief flooded her face, pain filled his heart.

“ah thank god, one of those church old ladies’ told me the two of you were talking, do you believe that?”

yes, mother, when he came to talk to me i hardly believed in it myself.

“i mean it’s good that he is going to church now, you know, trying to find the good ways but there’s the devil seed in him you know? he doesn’t have a dad around and his mom is always away is only natural he does that kind of stuff, poor boy, had never had any structure, a firm hand-”

“but the rumors are lying down you know, mom?” his sister, flared up by the possibility of gossip “people saying he hasn’t been out of town to that place in a long while”

“maybe he found the error in his ways, it’s never late for that” his stoic dad, who probably didn’t knew who daniel was and what were those things he did and places he went but was always quick to agree.

“no, it’s never late to fix yourself” his mom again, dark lips hiding a smile full of prejudice and a hint of disgust.

but seongwu sure hoped that was true because inside of him there were only broken pieces.

***

he cleaned his throat before speaking, it was a wednesday and only the truly devoted came to church on weekdays. daniel apparently had the feverish devotion, but seongwu doubted it was to the word of christ.

he was singing the psalms today, by the priest’s request. old people and their fondness for pretty boys who opened their doors and carried their bags while lying to their faces was something remarkable.

trust in the lord (...)

he tried to, but the kind of god people always talked about wasn’t one he thought he could trust - a hateful, spiteful god like the ones from old greece -, full of human vile and wrath, the kind of god who punishes people for just loving deserved to be forgotten. so he made up a version of god in his head, one that was his friend and listened to him, but that wasn’t the good in the church’s walls neither in the hearts of its’ people. and the do good part

and do good;

seongwu tried, he did, so hard. carry bags, drive people to places, be polite, be respectful, be nice, be patient. don’t dress in dark tones, that’s the devil’s way. don’t drink, don’t stay late. he never asked the congregation whether he should kiss a boy figure out if he really tasted like holy communion - like his feverish mind suspected-, he took a wild guess that it would be a don’t as well.

dwell in the land and befriend faithfulness.

he was so deep in the land that is skin felt untouched by sunlight and the only faith he had was that he was doomed.

delight yourself in the lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart.

so seongwu sang the psalm with his all of his might, praying and pleading like he never had before. daniel’s kind eyes glistened with joy while looking at him. and seongwu let himself wonder if he delighted in that god, the one with too thin shirts, ripped jeans, loud laugh and soft touch, would he still give him the desires of his heart? even if that desire was him?

when he finished singing at bowed at the altar all he could think was in the desires of his heart and how long would he go to get them. beyond the church walls? or right between them?

***

the church’s garage sale, the last place where daniel wanted to be right now, but, like most things, his mom dragged him to it.

“you’ve been to mass so often, you should probably by well acquainted with the place, right?”

“mom, you know that i hardly go there for the ambiance”

“you go there cause you like being talked about, you must enjoy the concentrated hate and the burn on your ears”

“no, mom, i don’t”  
“doesn’t look like it, putting yourself to people dismay like some kind of pariah and for a boy who is not even-”

“mom, you don’t even know him”

“all the same, sheltered pampered kids who get enticed by the forbidden, that’s how i ended up pregnant you know?”

“you telling me that getting pregnant with me was a bad thing? don’t break my heart like that”

he cracked her, he knew that. they were the best thing in each other’s lives and were deeply aware of that.

“no, son, it wasn’t”

“see? maybe pampered kids are here to teach us a lesson”

“become a self-taught will you?”

he laughed as they marched into the sidewalk, church in sight.

people parted for them like the red sea, they smiled at each other, divide and conquer. his mom knew that if she stood long enough near the china plates the woman would sell them way cheaper just to get her out of there faster, and he knew if he walked to seongwu everyone around them would leave and maybe, just maybe, they could talk.

he remembers every time they talked, they took classes at the same community college an hour away odd hours that made sure no one knew who they were. seongwu was more alive there, he seemed to go paler when against the church’s pale wall and paler people. he gained color when they were alone talking about that class neither of them payed attention to, and when they touched he swore he could see red evading seongwu's skin like spilling ink. he was fucking art.

but it all fell down when,funnily enough, moved to the same town. people whispered about him and his mom around every corner and seongwu heard, seongwu's parents heard. so he changed his timetable around and they hardly ever saw each other anymore, no skipping classes to drink cheap soda on the stone benches, no more kissing behind statues in the middle of the night and drinking cold soup from paper cups. the proximity took seongwu away from him, especially when he noticed he never had eli. seongwu belonged to his picture-perfect family and to the imposing church, a choir boy who sang pretty psalms and carried grocery bags all across town.

but, going against what everyone said of him, he was not a bad person, he understood. he first got a glimpse of it when he found the crucifix necklace under seongwu's shirt when they were kissing and seongwu looked at him full of fear, he just dropped and pretended it never happened. he wanted to know why seongwu when to a college so far away, why he spent so much time on the bus. didn’t add up. but when he got a glimpse of mean and gruesome people here could be he got it. why seongwu wasn’t going to school at night anymore, why he switched lanes on the supermarket and why he never looked in his eyes again. until he did. daniel missed seongwu's face, the stupid talks they had together, the clean smell of his neck and the weird things he always came up just to keep talking, so he went to where he could find him - the church. and everytime he swallowed the tiny circle he made sure to look at him, made sure to shake his hand and wish him peace - the thing seongwu took from him. so it was the contrary now, seongwu followed him around, like a stray cat, waiting for the right time to jump on him.  
that’s why him mom wanted him away, seongwu meant trouble and heartbreak, lost of sleep, nights wondering what he did wrong but seongwu also meant deep talks and deeper kisses, afternoons cramming for tests, cheap soda and cheaper coffee. wanting or not daniel was in love with the boy from the community college who was fun and vibrant, but on this town he faded to black and white and his presence was thin like bible pages.

“hey, how much for this?”

an old picture frame, nothing remarkable.

“this is broken” daniel took it in his hand, it wasn’t. “take this one, two bucks”

“do i pay here?” seongwu nodded while daniel reached inside his pocket for a crumpled up note. the hands touched, but this time there was no color on eli, daniel was almost disappointed until he felt a note inside his purchase, it seemed the red was on paper instead of seongwu's skin. he would take it.

***  
it’s the church yard again, how funny, everything seems to start and end here

“it’s a gazebo”

“i’ve seen a thousand weddings happen here”

“don’t exaggerate”

“it’s true, with all the pomp and circunstance and everything else; doves, horses, you name it”

“did **you** ever kiss anyone in here?”

“once, on the day of my first communion”

“how was it?”

“felt wrong, just like the first communion”

“like stale bread?”

“won’t you ever change?”

he knew fairly well that it wasn’t daniel that should change. daniel with his easy smile, the heart he wore on his sleeve, the laugh that filled the air; it was seongwu who must change his ways. stop pretending, stop lying, stop hiding perhaps start living a little.

“it’s the contrast you know. i don’t change, you go from water to wine, just like jesus”

“jesus didn’t **went** water from wine, he **made** wine from water”

“sorry, never went to sunday school”

“i was meant to ask you about that”

“about what?”

“the way you take the communion”

“what is to that?”

“you take it wrong, you must close your eyes, but you always stare at me”

“maybe it’s you i’d rather be taking. _ever thought of that_?”

“actually i did”

sitting side by side, in a church gazebo where he’d seen a thousand other people kiss and he couldn’t do just that. kiss him.

“and why is that, daniel? why do you want me?”

chuckle, like what he just asked was absurd.

“the way you talk, the way you walk, how you are always eager to help, to do something, the sound of your voice the rhythm of your laugh. how you smart you are, how kind.” long breath, lingering of doubt in the air. “but i also understand the things i don’t love: you part, your acting, the way you are among those people who don’t even give you the time of day but you give all the time to impress.”

of course he understands

“of course you understand, you’ve always been too-”

“no, i haven’t” he laughs, a short one. like he is ashamed “i badmouthed you” he signals for him to get closer and speaks softly in seongwu's hear “to my mom”  
they laugh until there are tears on the corner of their eyes

“oh what did you say?”

“i called you names”

“no!”

“i put a plague on your house”

“OH NO!”

“i did, and so did she”

“does she hate me?”

“within reason, i mean, you kind of broke my heart, choir boy”

“i didn’t mean it”

“i know”  
and that was the saddest part

“do you have any plans to mend it?”

“i wish i could”

“give me a proper goodbye”

“you know very well i can’t control myself when if comes to you”

“if i remember correctly that was me”

“no, it wasn’t. letting you touch me, kiss me…” they were side by side, holding hands. so close they could kiss, so close he could see the pain himself put in daniel’s eyes. the least he could do was take it away. “that was the biggest lost of control i had, and i loved that”

foreheads were touching now, fingers tied together. no longer light and reserved. now it was all consuming fire, both of them embers burning together.

“thank you” shaky breath, wondering hand on his back, a lover’s caress. seongwu missed this, for the first time in month he relaxed his just and let himself be coddled and caressed. “for trusting me”

“it’s quite easy”

“it is?”

he nodded while nuzzling his nose on daniel shirt, they had done it many times  
he says it against his lips and neck, they had also done that many times.  
he head it too, how he was understood, and choir boy, so easy to love.  
daniel didn’t blame him, daniel brought back memories when they were good, when they were simple, when they were them.  
he brought back other things too, daniel’s kindness and patience and passion  
also other lesser things like his hands on his sides, lips on his ears and fingers on his neck.

felt like a flashback. something that belonged to someone else. daniel sprawled on a gold gazebo floor at midnight, undressed like an italian painting - the kind priests would hide

“you can catch a cold.”

daniel grabbed seongwu's shirt from the floor and slid it over his shoulders. even after what they done he looked worried

“it’s this a goodbye, choir boy”

seongwu smiled

“no, i’m pretty sure after what we just did on hallowed ground this is a ‘until death do us part’”


End file.
